


Fairies of Hyrule

by Sinnatious



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fairy Hyrule, Fluff, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sleepy Cuddles, Time (Linked Universe) is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnatious/pseuds/Sinnatious
Summary: Hyrule finds himself inexplicably drawn to the Hero of Time. It winds up that there's an explanation for that. Linked Universe fic.
Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Time (Linked Universe)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 468





	Fairies of Hyrule

**Author's Note:**

> Was just thinking about how Time is good with fairies, and well, Hyrule can turn into a fairy...
> 
> Plays a bit fast and loose with lore but just wanted to write these two.

Hyrule can’t help, sometimes, but to drift towards the Hero of Time.

It’s usually in the quiet moments, few as they are. When they’re sitting around the campfire, or he’s on watch, or they’re travelling through familiar territory that has neither threats nor novelty to occupy his attention. He doesn’t even notice he’s doing it, at first, until one time he’d gone to sit between Legend and Time by the campfire and checked himself at the last moment when he realised Twilight was already there, and found himself strangely bothered when he went to sit on Legend’s other side instead. Like he’d been robbed of something.

It can’t be jealousy, he reasons. He _knows_ Time and Twilight are close, that Twilight views him as a kind of mentor, and honestly, it’s nothing he particularly wants for himself. There’s a lot to learn from his fellow heroes – and he quietly worries about measuring up, when he’s not even a real knight, when peace and prosperity for his Hyrule still feels, despite all of his travels, like a far off dream – but that sort of guidance isn’t something he craves, or even really needs at this point in his life.

Then it happens again, when they’re walking in an open field, and Hyrule finds himself falling from the front of the pack. His attention drifts, his thoughts wandering to distant unexplored forests and fields of green, and when he blinks again, he’s matched pace with Time, and has only noticed because Warriors has stepped into the gap between them, with some important thing he felt the need to discuss regarding tactics or combat or teamwork – Hyrule isn’t listening. It’s odd, but he brushes it off, hurrying back up to where Wild has stopped to pick wild apples from a tree.

The third time it catches his attention, when he can’t ignore it anymore, is when he wakes up one morning just before sunrise, curled against Time’s side like a child. He’d done first watch that night, and had settled down to sleep near the older hero, but evidently rolled over… several times. He doesn’t remember settling down _that_ close.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, but the previous times they’d all been crammed in cramped quarters to start with – seeking shelter from a storm in a cave that’s a little too small for all of them, huddling together in the mountains for warmth, bunking up in an inn without enough beds. He’s slept wonderfully though – he hasn’t woken feeling this well-rested in days, and pleasant dreams of sun kissed fields and peaceful lakeshores linger like the warmth of a campfire burned low. He always seems to sleep better near the Hero of Time.

Still, the Old Man is a terribly light sleeper, and he doesn’t want to disturb what little rest the man gets, so he carefully, slowly, moves away.

It’s a pattern, he thinks. Or maybe he’s just like Wind, instinctively seeking the shadow of the only mature adult among them and in denial about it. He’d thought himself too old for such things, but it’s an explanation, so he leaves it at that.

* * *

Then Legend says something about it.

“You act sort of weird around the Old Man, you know?” Legend remarks.

They’re scouting the area in pairs before they make camp for the night. The landscape is unfamiliar, and it won’t do for them to settle down near a bear’s den or within a stone’s throw of a bokoblin settlement. “Weird? What do you mean?”

Legend scrunches up his face. “I don’t know how to explain it. Like you’re drunk, maybe?”

“Drunk?”

“You get… I don’t know. Cloudy eyed? Sort of loose? Like you kind of tune out. Relaxed.”

He hadn’t thought anyone else had noticed. “He feels safe,” is all Hyrule has to offer in explanation. There’s nothing so strange about that, is there? Time has become something of a father figure to a group of a eight boys most of whom don’t remember any sort of father – but Hyrule imagines having a father must be like that, a sense of comfort and familiarity and safety in his presence.

“I get that. But it’s…” Legend takes one look at his expression and seems to rethink whatever he was about to say. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s not really a bad thing, I guess.”

He changes the subject, complaining about some crazy stunt Wild had pulled the day before and was probably also pulling now. Hyrule smiles and nods in all the right places, with his thoughts drifting an entire mountain range away.

* * *

The Hero of Legend’s words continue to bother him, though, so Hyrule sort of starts avoiding their leader. He wants Legend to think well of him, if he’s being honest with himself. He doesn’t take it too far, and doesn’t go to any overt lengths, or over anything petty – the problem is all him, after all. He simply pays closer attention when they’re walking, even if it’s somewhere boring, sticking to Legend or Wild’s side. Sits with Four at the campfire, spending the effort to listen closely and stay present as he talks about smithing techniques. Settles down to sleep on the opposite side of camp.

It’s all a bit stressful, if he wants to be honest with himself, but he’s also stubborn, so he keeps it up, even if it means he finds himself increasingly tired and restless and cranky from all the effort. He’s careful not to take it out on the others, but if he’s a bit more quiet than usual, well, there’s nine of them, so there’s plenty of noise to fill in the space. Legend sends him an odd look sometimes, usually followed with a glance towards the Old Man, but he never says anything about it, so Hyrule figures he’s doing the right thing.

Until after two weeks of it, Time assigns the two of them to first watch that night.

Hyrule finds himself caught. He can’t say no without explaining why – it’s out of character for him. So he just nods quietly and focuses on eating dinner – mushroom skewers tonight, expertly prepared by Wild as always.

All too quickly dinner is over though, and he doesn’t have anything left to hide behind. “Are you sure?” Sky asks him in an aside as he unhooks his cape and prepares for sleep. “You’ve been looking a bit out of it lately. I could take over for you.”

It’s an out, but one which invites questions Hyrule doesn’t want to answer about why he’s so tired in the first place instead. The travelling they’ve been doing lately is nothing unusual or particularly strenuous for him – if anything, Sky should be the more exhausted of the two of them.

“It’s fine,” he says.

Because really, this whole thing has been about pretending to be normal, and doing a watch with the Old Man occasionally is extremely normal. So when the time comes, Hyrule bids them all good night, and occupies himself with poking at the fire for a while.

Eventually, he glances up, catching sight of where Time has set himself up on a fallen tree trunk, situated just beyond the warmth of the fire, where their eyes can adjust to the darkness of the woods around them better, to see threats more clearly. Just outside of easy hearing, so he won’t disturb anyone who’s asleep. He’s already removed his armour for the evening, leaving only the black gambeson he wears underneath. They’re not expecting any trouble in this part of Hyrule, so the trade-off between comfort and battle-readiness is an acceptable one for once, it seems - though both the armour and his sword and shield remain within easy reach.

Time catches him looking, smiles slightly, and pats the trunk next to him in invitation.

Hyrule goes, because it’s normal, and no one is awake to judge him for it. Besides, he _likes_ Time – likes _everyone_ – and spending the watch with him is hardly a trial. If it hadn’t been for Legend’s comments he wouldn’t think twice about it.

Time greets him with a nod as he sits down, but doesn’t say anything. It’s a comfortable silence, where the distant screech of keese filters with the chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. And Hyrule finds himself relaxing for the first time in weeks.

People’s very presences are so loud to him sometimes. The Hero of Time is an exception, though. He always feels quiet, and calm. Even his magic pools and swirls around him like a deep lake, slow currents around a weathered rock.

He reminds him of a forest at rest.

Hyrule doesn’t even realise he’s sunk against the Old Man’s side until he’s flush with it. It’s warm and comfortable – the natural spun fabrics are coarse but familiar, like Hyrule’s own instead of the finely crafted clothing Sky and Warriors and Legend favour.

His cheeks grow hot, and an apology is on his lips when he shifts to move away, but Time’s hand grips his shoulder, squeezing him briefly in an open armed hug, and Hyrule melts into it.

“I thought you’d been avoiding me lately. I’m glad it isn’t that I’d done anything wrong,” he says.

Hyrule is silent for a beat too long to be innocent. He feels Time’s nod. “Ah, I wasn’t mistaken then. Is there something on your mind?”

“It’s stupid,” he murmurs.

“If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid,” Time replies, as though it’s easy as that.

Still, Hyrule hesitates. He doesn’t know how to put it in words. “It’s really nothing. I just sometimes find myself… unconsciously wanting to cling to you?” By Hylia, it sounds weird when he puts it like that. He hurries to clarify, “I mean, not literally.” Except literally, like right now, or when he would wake up curled against Time when sleeping. “But Legend noticed I was acting a bit weird when I did it, and I agreed, so I’ve been paying more attention so I don’t do it by accident?” His cheeks are burning. May the Goddesses strike him down here and now to spare him this embarrassment. “I don’t really understand it.” His words die in a strangled mutter.

He shouldn’t have worried so much though – the Old Man takes it in the same easy stride he takes _everything_. “I see, that must have been troubling indeed.” He hums to himself for a moment. Then suddenly he asks, “Have you, perhaps, spent a lot of time around fairies?”

Hyrule’s eyes widen.

Legend has theorised that there’s fairy blood in his lineage somewhere. Possibly just a trace of it – enough to make what should be an impossible transformation spell possible, enough to heal a little if he’s willing to spend the strength for it. And it’s a secret he’s since kept closely guarded. No good can come of people knowing it. So there shouldn’t be _any_ reason for Time to guess. Even Legend hadn’t, until he’d witnessed it himself, had found out by circumstance.

None of the others know. He hasn’t told any of them about his transformation spell. The only clue is in his healing magic, but he’s only ever used _that_ as a last resort, and none of them have ever questioned it beyond a remark about its rarity. And it’s not like it comes up often anyway – they almost never ask him to heal, not after seeing how tired it left him, when he’d pushed himself too far the first time he’d volunteered.

Time asks like he already knows the answer though.

He doesn’t want to lie to him. He’ll keep his secret, he thinks. He keeps his own so well.

“Not… exactly,” he replies, the words halting and unsure. He’s not certain if he’s even said them aloud before – Legend had seen it for himself, so he hadn’t _needed_ to say it. “There’s… I have some abilities…” He makes a noise of frustration, at how hard the words are to get out, and grits his teeth. He can _do_ this. “I can transform into one.”

“Truly?” The Old Man sounds surprised, but less than he expected. Like Hyrule has just told him of a talent for carpentry or something similarly mundane.

“It’s a spell a Wise Man taught me. Legend saw it, and he thinks it’s actually just a standard transformation spell, but that I have some fairy blood in my lineage somewhere and that’s why it turns me into a fairy.”

Time just hums, and runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it. Hyrule leans into the touch, despite himself. “It explains things, a bit, I think.”

“How so?” Hyrule is interested, but now that he’s finally relaxed, he feels like he’s floating, like he could drop off into a nap at any moment.

“You’re aware that I’m good with fairies. Did you know that I’ve had a fairy companion before? More than one, in fact.”

Hyrule can’t see how that’s related. “The kid had a fairy companion, though. And the captain too, didn’t he?” He doesn’t get the same feeling around them. And stray fairies run and hide from them just as quickly.

“You’re right, of course.” He sounds wistful at the thought. “But from what I understand, they only stayed for a time, for a task. There’s a lot of different kinds of fairies, you know. Just like hylians, some of the more adventurous ones are given duties by their Great Mother, or they take up quests that take them far from home. The fairies they met were rather of that sort, I think.”

“You know a lot about fairies,” Hyrule observes. More than even he and Legend, and they would be considered experts in their respective Hyrules.

“Of course. I grew up surrounded by them. You recall that forest? The one with the skull kids?”

Hyrule does. He liked that forest, he remembers, though he equally remembers how stern the Old Man had been in warning him not to wander away from the group. He especially remembers the way the forest had filled with fairies after they’d killed the infected beast. He’d never seen so many at once, not even at a spring. “You grew up there?” His interest sharpens. Time so rarely talks about himself – and almost never so frankly.

“I did, yes. There are many fairies living there, even more than what we saw that day. The fairies there aren’t given tasks, usually, unless it’s by the Great Deku Tree. Some of them choose children to mind, to bond with for life. The closest friend that child will ever have, to the point they’re almost an extension of each other. All of the children in that forest have a fairy companion.”

It sounds magical. “Wait, so you too?” He recalls seconds too late the bowl of sugar water on Lon Lon Ranch, and Malon’s careful words about Time’s enduring search for one fairy in particular.

It takes a long moment for the older hero to respond, and when he does, all he says is, “Yes, me too.”

“I’m sorry,” Hyrule blurts out. The way he spoke of that bond, to lose that would be…

The Old Man waves it away. “It’s beside the point. What matters for this issue, is that because of my origins the Great Fairies have always been exceptionally trusting of me. And one of them even entrusted me with this.” He reaches into his bag, and pulls out a mask.

It’s different to what the Great Fairies look like in his Hyrule, but there’s an ethereal beauty to the face, a certain pointiness to the features that not even the most delicate-looking hylians possess. The hair is as vivid as red wildflowers, entwined with living vines. It begins to stir, as though rustled by an invisible wind. Hyrule finds himself leaning towards it, transfixed.

Then he blinks as Time puts it away, and the fascination fades somewhat. “That answers that, I suppose,” Time says, as though he’s simply discussing a basic shrine puzzle.

“Answers what?” Hyrule asks.

“The thing about masks, is they tend to leave a little bit of themselves behind, after you wear them enough.” His fingers grace the side of his face, tracing the red marks there, before falling once again.

Hyrule watches the gesture, and says nothing. He must be tired, he thinks, because he still doesn’t really get it, and sinks a little more against the Old Man’s side. Luckily, Time goes on to explain, “It means that there’s nothing wrong with you finding a bit of comfort in being close by, and it is in fact very understandable. Most fairies draw comfort and strength from returning to their Mother sometimes. They come home to recharge before wandering off on their own again.”

“I’m not really a fairy though,” Hyrule protests, though it’s not much of one, his eyes as heavy as they are.

Time’s fingers ruffle his hair again. It’s nice. “And I’m not really a Great Fairy either. But there’s just enough of both in each of us that it helps.”

He supposes that makes sense. He’s not altogether sure he _likes_ the concept, or what it implies, but it worries him less now that he knows the reason. And now that he knows that the Old Man isn’t bothered, and doesn’t find it strange. More than just Legend, he’d wanted their leader to think well of him too.

“What would the others say, though?” he groans, burying his face in his hands at the thought. It’s still _weird_ , there’s no getting around that.

Time chuckles. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone – it’s a little embarrassing for me too, you know.”

“You, embarrassed?” Hyrule smiles at the thought. “I can’t picture it, Old Man.” He would find a way make even bunny ears dignified, Hyrule is sure.

“Well, perhaps not. But I need to keep a little mystery about myself, don’t I? How else will I impress them all with my abilities to find fairies in the wild?”

“Never realised you were cheating,” Hyrule yawns. “And I think Legend might have already guessed. Maybe not the whole reason why, but he definitely knows something.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” the Old Man agrees. “But I can arrange things so the others won’t notice, and you shouldn’t have to hold yourself back so hard. It’s likely worse when you’re over-tired or after you’ve used a lot of magic. I think you’ll find the effect won’t be so strong when you’re well-rested.”

“That would be nice,” Hyrule mumbles. He definitely doesn’t want this all the time, he thinks. It would be like – well, like being a drunkard, if he wants to use Legend’s words, though it’s not a perfect analogy. But this nice, floaty feeling… now that he knows the cause, he recognises it, a bit. It reminds him of the times he’s visited a fairy spring with his transformation spell active in the past. And he’s always felt strangely energised afterwards. His magic flows a little easier, a little quicker, ticklish and bright instead of prickling and flickering. Much the way he feels after spending the night curled up against Time’s back, now that he thinks about it.

He doesn’t want to get used to it though, because one day, he’s not going to have it anymore. One day, their journey will end, and he’ll have to return to his Hyrule for good, alone.

As though sensing the turn of his thoughts, Time tucks him close, until his head is resting against his shoulder. “There’s no need to worry so much about it. Just rest, for now. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, have you? You can nap here, if you like. I have watch covered well enough.”

It’s on his mind to protest, but Time is humming lightly again, some kind of distantly familiar lullaby, and his eyes slide closed.

Hyrule drifts, and sleeps, his dreams this time of frolicking with family in golden fields instead of alone in vast, empty forests.

**Author's Note:**

> Dad Time more like Great Mother Time am I right


End file.
